Sappy Ramblings from people who should be in bed

The thing that is the most important to me at camp is relationships. Several years ago I told a friend of mine that in some ways camp is the purest form of teaching. It is about the connecting to the boys on a level that doesn't seem to happen anywhere else. I imagine some people might find that odd, creepy or misunderstand my meaning. They live narrow lives.

These boys share so much with me. Often they come up to my Medlodge, in the evening when it's quiet or during a free minute between merit badge classes or on Thursday nights off or even Saturday evenings. They come to hang out, get food (I often have home-cooking in the fridge, chili, chicken and dumplings, soup, etc) and often to talk. The conversations start out small and sometimes odd. Sometimes they meander and go nowhere and sometimes great truths and secrets are shared. I've been told things that were never said out loud before, and may never be again. Things parents, teachers, best friends and doctors may not ever hear. Sometimes I just hear it first, as a safe sounding board. In the past four years I've had people discuss past abuse, suicide, sex, true (possibly unrequited) love, sexual orientation, faith in God, hopes and dreams for the future, and often just the confusion that comes in growing up. They tell me about the girlfriends they want, the ones they have and the ones they lost, not to mention the ones they wish they never had. They tell me about smoking and drinking and porn and the things they are angry about, ashamed of and secretly proud of. They tell me about the mistakes that they pray no one ever finds out about. They tell me the things that make their hearts break and their souls sing.

Oddly enough, for as talkative and up front a person as I am, I don't always talk all that much, mostly listen and I keep a lot of secrets. Which is funny because sometimes I never see or hear from some of them again. They only do one summer at camp and they don't write or call or whatever. If I bump into them somewhere it's good to see them, but awkward and strange as well.

Coming back from camp I find that this summer in particular a lot of what I heard weighs heavy on my soul because it seems so many today are bleeding internally. These are the good boys, the role models, the future leaders and they are so confused and so lost. Yet even with ten to fifteen years on them I'm not real sure I know the answers anymore than they do.

This week I went back to being Miss X at my school. Talking mostly to real adults of course, but Miss X. Here I do have the answers and I am "The Teacher" and my job is so much more finite and bounded and in that way I feel more powerful and in control. Yet, I don't feel as connected either. I am also a lot less confused.

It's Saturday night and I'm getting ready for bed, but I miss keeping an ear out for that shuffle of feet outside my medlodge door or the softly whispered "Hey Sandy." Nana goes to bed early and so it's just me and the dog now. There are no burdens for me to share, no stories to hear and no secrets to keep. I miss them.

I miss my boys.

(So to add to the insult of not posting for nearly a month I now am creating injury by being sappy and philosophical and rambling and probably a bit odd, just ignore me. Students return on Tuesday and I imagine I'll be quirky and cynical again. Also I still need to recount the great Monkey Bridge incident, tick digging, Christmas in July, the chain-saw incident... Just for Beata... And the most important lesson I learned all summer.)